


Ria

by Number_Twelve



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Multi, Pessimistic words, War, sorry 'bout that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Number_Twelve/pseuds/Number_Twelve
Summary: A young girl tells us about her story in the Elvish-Draco wars.
Relationships: Um... - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the chapter numbering. It must be confusing, so...

Prologue  
My eyes flickered open. I had been dreaming about a large field and a blue sky, but now I found myself staring at the ceiling of my small room, listening to my cousin’s snores coming from the bed next to mine. I stared for a moment longer before rolling onto my side and slipping out of bed. I looked at Sal’s sleeping form, lit by the dim light of the moon, his side rising and falling. Then I crouched next to my old bed and felt for the loose floorboard I was using as a secret compartment, quietly loosening it, pulling it up and fishing out the old history book and the flashlight. I replaced the floorboard again and placed the book on my bed, climbing on it and switching on the flashlight. I opened the book, keeping my back to Sal and pointing the flashlight down. I sat still, listening for any sounds that could suggest my Uncle was awake. But everything was silent. All was quiet. The only noises were the wind and the crickets outside, Sal’s snores and my breathing. I flipped to the page I was on, smoothening out the bent corner marking it and bending my back to get a better view of the text. 

I was currently reading about the olden days in which the world was not at war with each other. In which everyone lived in harmony. Further still when humans first discovered the existence of various creatures. Fauns, elves, ogres. And above all, dragons. For a while, contracts and peace treaties were signed and there was peace within the different communities. But then the king of Dragons was assassinated, and the Elves were blamed for it. War was declared. It was a bloodbath. Both dragons and elves were killed. Not only them, but a wide variety of another folk as well. Soon the world had been divided into three sides: those who supported the Elves, those who supported the dragons and those who chose neither. I flipped the page and found myself looking at a terrible painting featuring the Great Battle. My father was killed during that battle, a proud faun. My mother, a human like I was, was killed when the dragons burned down the hideout, she had been hiding in with at least a hundred others. She managed to save me and killed herself in the process. I was just eight.  
Now I was twelve.  
I am a girl living in a war. 

There was horn blare and my head snapped up, listening. Another horn. And another. I hid the book under my covers and switched off the flashlight, then slipped out of bed and walked to the window. I opened it, lifting the glass pane up with some difficulty and letting the cold wind hit the exposed skin on my arms.  
“Ria?” That was Sal’s sleepy voice. I did not reply. There was a light in the horizon. Then another. And another.  
The skeletal, graceful figures of three dragons suddenly appeared in the sky, winging their way out of the clouds.  
“Sal. Get out of bed.” I said.  
“What’s—”  
“Get out of bed!” I said, louder this time. I wheeled away from the window and ran to the side of his bed, pulling him out. Sal was a year older than me and stood a head taller than me, with dark hair and light brown skin. He looked confused as I slapped him across the face to wake him up.  
“What was that for?!” he said.  
“Look!” I pointed at the window; his eyes widened.  
“I’ll get Dad!” he yelled, running to the door, throwing it open and running out. I opened a drawer and pulled out an old orange jumper, stuffing it into an old rucksack. I pulled out one of Sal’s too, running out of the room. My uncle was already up, a bag slung over his broad shoulders.  
“Get some boots on!” he shouted at me. I nodded and ran to the entrance, stuffing my feet into a pair of old rubber boots, my heart beating faster by the minute.  
“Salman!” Uncle shouted. Sal ran into the room, his own emergency rucksack slung over his shoulders. I caught glimpse of him stuffing his tiny, knitted rabbit into his trousers’ pockets, his entire body trembling with fright. 

I heard the first few alarms blow, followed by the announcement warning people to evacuate their houses and head for the bunkers.  
“Come on, both of you!” Uncle shouted, throwing the door open and stepping outside. The night was cold and dark, but you could see the dragons flying closer and closer. You could not miss those imposing figures in the sky. It was nearly impossible. My heart was beating like a drum, begging to rip itself out from my rib cage.  
I could not blame it. Dragons were not rare to be seen this close to the mountains, they appeared at least once in a month, but it gave you a permanent fear. They often filed by and did not pay attention, but they had every reason to burn our town to the ground.  
“Ria!” I returned back to reality and followed Sal at a brisk walk, throwing one last look behind me at the approaching beasts. We joined the river of people heading for the bunkers, the safest place, built specially for situations like this. But it could not keep the dragons from tearing it apart. It only kept the fire away and the destruction from the surface. I pushed past frantic villagers, keeping a few steps behind my cousin. 

We reached the bunker’s opening. Several guards stood at the entrance, checking people’s permission cards. Only people with them were allowed inside. I took mine out from my bag and held it tightly in my hand. Our turn came and Uncle showed the security guard his card. He was admitted inside and waited for us to be let in, tapping his foot impatiently.  
“Dad?” Sal asked him.  
“Yes, son?”  
“What do you think those dragons want?” Uncle’s eyes narrowed.  
“I don’t know. But hopefully not to start another Fire Raid.” He grunted. “Come on, move.” He walked behind us as we walked down the tunnel that would lead to the bunker’s lower floors. I gave Sal’s hand a hopefully reassuring squeeze which he returned before letting go of my hand. I glance up at the stone ceiling just as we arrived at the main entrance of the Bunker. Uncle pushed past us and leaded us to a free spot on the benches.  
“Sit here and don’t move from this spot until I tell you to do so.” He said, placing his bag on the bench. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He looked at me. “Don’t do like last time, Ria.”  
“I’ll try to resist the urge, Uncle.” I said flatly, sitting down. Sal sat next to me, looking around him nervously. Uncle walked away to talk to one of the other village men.  
“We are safe and sound.” Sal muttered, taking out his knitted bunny. “We are safe and sound in here.”  
“So, I hope. Hopefully, the dragons do not choose to look under the ground, eh?” I grinned. He scowled at me, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  
“Sure.” He mumbled. I looked at the other villages. I might have been acting cool.  
But inside me I was petrified.  
What was going to happen?

As if in response, there was a loud blaring alarm as the doors of the bunker shut. Uncle was back with us in a moment. He was about to say something when he was cut off by a crash coming from outside. The entire room held its breath. There was a second crash.  
“Oh my god.” Sal whispered, craning his neck to look up at the ceiling. There was a blast of heat and I knew that the dragons had finally decided to incinerate the village to the ground. I could hear screams coming from the outside. People who had not gotten to the bunker on time or had not been allowed. Left to die. The screams were clear in the silence that was being held in the bunker. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. A few minutes of it passed until it was nearly complete silence once more, excepting the wingbeats of the dragons taking off into the sky. I shut my eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. Sal whispered something but it was drowned out by the sudden rise of chatter in the room. We stayed in there for hours on end, waiting to see if they would be back. We stayed in that bunker for a long time, surrounded by terrified emotions, sadness, hurt, the weeping villagers around us.  
I have never felt more conflicted. That, and the time when Uncle came back home that day, telling me with a gentle voice that both my parents, and hundreds of others, were dead.


	2. chapter 1

Ria  
“Ria?” Sal’s voice takes me out of my shallow dream, bringing me back to reality. The bunker. I blink, my surroundings coming into better focus. I straighten myself, yawning. Uncle is no longer sitting beside me; in fact, he is standing a few benches away from us and speaking to a guard. Sal sits next to me, looking paler than I have ever seen him before. He holds his small knitted rabbit in his hands, caressing the rough wool with his thumb. A thing he does when he is feeling stressed or scared. Reality suddenly punches me in the gut as I suddenly remember what happened to our village. I cover my face, imaging what it must look like now. Scorched to the ground. Flames still burning even after all these hours (a dragon’s fire is unlike any other fire; it can burn up to a couple of days and not dim unless the coldest water is poured upon it). I feel like crying and screaming at the same time. But I do neither for Sal’s benefit.  
Sal is not usually like this. He only stays in this state when it comes to dragons.   
After all, his own sister, a warrior, had been killed by one during a chaotic raid a year ago. I do not think he has gotten over it yet. Worse still, they had not found her body. There was no proper funeral.

I uncover my face and look up at the ceiling, wondering if there is anything left of our town. My short, brown curls tickle my face as I do so. I feel unrealistic. This cannot really be happening. I unconsciously pinch my arm. Nope. Not a dream. I am pulled to attention when Uncle walks to us.  
“They are going to open the gates now.” He says in a calm tone. Before he can tell us to stay put, I jump to my feet and over the bench, running to the tunnel. I can hear him shouting my name, but I am already lost in the growing crowd of people. I know that he will punish me, but I can’t not see this for myself. I push my way up to the front, where they are already unlocking the gates. I break out of the crowd and stand before the gates just as they open.  
The world outside is not what I have known. 

Everything is scorched. Burned. Fire still burns on several buildings, mocking me. I step outside and the other villagers exit after me. I can barely hear the murmurs and words said around me. I am numb inside. In shock.   
Only a few hours ago, this was silent. Peaceful. Now, in the light of the rising sun, it looks like a savaged battle ground. A ghost of what this place used to be.   
“RIA!” I do not turn to Uncle. I can feel his anger evaporate when he sees what I see. I hear him mutter something behind me. Probably a prayer. I look down at my rubber boots, seeing the soot covered ground. I look back up and turn to see my uncle.  
“Those scaled beasts will pay.” He growled, striding past me. Sal emerged from the crowd, clutching the small rabbit in his hands, his eyes wide.   
“Holy…” he mutters, striding past me, following his father. I turn around and follow him, soot rising around my feet. I know what Uncle was doing. He wanted to see our home. If it had been caught in the fire the beasts had created. I follow them, dread curled in the pit of my stomach. I am afraid of what I might find. I had heard of other nearby towns being attacked by the flying beasts, but I had not imagined that it could happen to us.  
But war is war. Anything could happen. Including this. Destruction, death, and fire. Fire, which can be a source of life but a source of death at the same a time. The symbol of dragons. My hands fist at my sides when we arrive at our house. It is near the edge, so it is not nearly as affected as the others. But you cannot miss the burned walls and scorched ground around it.   
We are lucky. Sort of.   
“Wait outside.” Uncle says, kicking the door open and stepping inside. I exchange a look with my cousin, and we wait for a few minutes until Uncle comes back out.  
“Is it very bad?” Sal asks.  
“Not too bad. But get your needed things outside.” He replies.  
“Why?” I ask, already knowing the answer.  
“We are leaving this town.”

Valerian  
Void stands tall, his black scales glinting in the dim light entering through the sky hole and reflecting off silver his armor. I stand next to him, feeling small and terrible next to the huge, black dragon. My own silvery scales seem to mock me.  
KILLER! They seem to scream. I focus on the black dragon standing before both of us. Asriat, our mentor. His cold, black eyes sweep over us. His tail twitches.  
“Did you scorch the city’s center to the ground?” he asks in a hissy voice.  
“Yes. Every single house in sight.” Void replies. More guilt pools at the bottom of my stomach.   
I was supposed to be feeling victorious. A small victory to get me started. But the smell of death and smoke on my scales is suffocating me. I cannot keep my wings from twitching involuntarily every time I breathe in. Asriat looks at me and I stay still.  
“What have you learned from Void today, dragonet?” he asks coldly.   
“Mercy won’t be given to traitors.” I repeat automatically. That is what I have been taught all my life, ever since I was a young hatchling, fresh out of the egg, standing in front of Asriat alongside the other hatchlings.   
But I do not think I can live with that saying. Those villagers were not the cause for our King’s death. The elves were. Not them. And yet, just because they did not agree to our laws, we burned their village down.   
Mercy will not be given to traitors, I remind myself in my head, pushing these thoughts out of my head. I cannot afford to think this. I will be in a battle one day and I will have to kill. Whether I like it or not.   
That is part of reason why I, as a Swift, was brought into the world of dragons.   
And I guess I should not regret it either.


	3. chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Ria  
Uncle creates a plan in less than a few minutes. The dragons could return any moment to finish off the work they had begun and to scorch the town to the ground. We would go to Vangosh, a town about a hundred miles from ours, to spend a week or two with his sister Marylin, whom I had seen probably about two months ago. She runs a foster home (sort of) with the help of her eldest son, Austen (who is probably two years than me) and lives in a massive house. Uncle takes us there every two months, so we get more “family connection”. But all those visits never end too well (on one case, it involved eggs being thrown all over the room). Then we will figure out what to do about our situacion.

We set out almost immediately after escaping the bunker, our rucksacks filled with the most necessary things. Clothes, valuable items and (in Uncle’s case) money. I take one last look to our house before sighing and turning back, following Uncle and Sal along the soot covered stone roads. People sit outside their burned homes, try to find items underneath smoking piles, or try to get rid of the still dancing flames. People cry. People shout. It all reminds me slightly about the ancient dragon Smaug, who burned down an entire city in the book The Hobbit, written by a writer in the olden days. Uncle leads the way toward his friend Carter’s house, one of the few surviving. Carter stands outside, loading luggage into a large truck. His dog sits in the passenger seat, barking when he sees us.  
“John!” Carter says, approaching us.   
“Carter. Could you give us a ride to Vangosh?” Uncle asks. Carter bites his lower lip. Uncle sees this, “Please. We need to leave this place. Come on, Carter. We’ve known each other for nearly all our lives.”  
“I know, and I wasn’t going to say no to hitching a ride. I was just wondering where I could put the three of you.” Carter says.  
“I can take the passenger seat and the kids can sit in the back with the dog.” Uncle said.   
“Okay, but it will be crammed in the back.” Carter warns, walking to the passenger door and pulling it open. “Out you get, Sammy.” The black mongrel jumps out and follows Carter to the back of the truck.   
“Go with Carter, you two.” Uncle tells Sal and me. We obey and soon we are sitting in the back of Carter’s truck opposite to each other, our knees brushing. Sammy sits next to us, his head resting on my leg. Uncle turns in his seat, looking at us.  
“Are you two fines there?” he asks.  
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have said no to that seat.” I grumble, drawing my arms around myself. I can tell that Sal agrees but keeps quiet for his own sake.  
“Deal with what you have.” Uncle snaps, turning back to the front. Carter turns on the truck’s engines and drives to the town’s exit. I look around at the truck’s back. There are various things piled around, which is why Sal and I have limited space on the truck’s back benches. The truck turns sharply, and we are thrown right. Sal falls out of his seat and onto my feet, yelping.  
“Sorry,” he says, pulling himself back onto the bench and gripping the sides of the bench tightly.   
“I don’t think I am going to enjoy this at all.” I mutter, glaring at the back of Uncle’s head. Hey, just because I am not his daughter and just his deceased sister’s daughter and half Faun in DNA it does not mean he can treat me worse than Sal.   
“Same here.” Sal agrees, pushing a lock of dark hair from his eyes. I can swear that there is a green-ish tinge on his face. After all, we do not always get to ride a car—or, in fact, any other kind of vehicle. It is not something we could get used to easily. 

An hour passes annoyingly slow. I guess what they say about time passing slowly when you are not having fun is actually true. I sat in the back of the truck, craning my neck left to watch the road pass, the car traveling along the bumpy road not-so-smoothly. Sal is quietly stroking Sammy’s fur in an unconscious motion, keeping his eyes down to avoid becoming sick.   
“Not long now,” Uncle calls from the front. He and Carter had been speaking about boring adult stuff that I just was not interested to listen to for the past hour, Uncle silencing us whenever one of us asked how long we had left to get to Vangosh. My foot taps impatiently, itching to get out of the damn truck as soon as possible. We have traveled roughly 74 miles and it feels like we might never get to Vangosh. Not only that, but I smell of charcoal and fire. It brings back terrible memories. I then wonder how many people were not able to get into the Bunker before the dragons attacked. How many unfortunate townsmen got unlucky and how many were able to survive? I shudder. Probably none by the state the town was left in. 

“Look, that’s Vangosh,” Carter says, bringing my attention back to the front of the car. The great Clock Tower stands high and proud over the town. It is the symbol of Vangosh, able to be seen from the mountains. Sal and I look at it in wonder and awe, wondering how people were ever able to build such a monument. But then, new technology had been developed hundreds of years before the war began. Alongside the Clock Tower, I see the shapes of other buildings. But still, the Clock Tower is the main attraction. Or at least it was until the war began, scaring away the tourists. It was no big surprise; Vangosh had once been one of the most visited towns in its past, but now, like many other cities and towns, it was only home for people who actually lived there. 

Vangosh was safe from the dragons thanks to a treaty that had been signed and an exchange for peace between the Town’s governor to guarantee the Town’s safety. Despite being one of the safest places, it was nearly deserted comparing to what it had been in its highest days. It could be a ghost town if it were not for the townsmen living there. Half an hour passes before we see the main gate. Two guards stand in a little booth by the gate, and they look up when they see us. One of them walks towards the truck and Carter rolls down his window.  
“Hello there!” the guard says with an accent. “What brings ye here?”  
“I’ve got to drop off a friend of mine and spend the night here,” Carter replied.  
“May I see yer documentations, please?” the guard said. Carter dug into his door’s side and pulled out a documentation booklet, handing it to the guard. The guard opens the first few pages and looks at it.   
“I’ll pass it through the scanner. It will take a minute or so, sir.” He tells Carter. Carter nods and the Guard walks away, saying something I cannot hear to his companion as he goes into the booth. Carter drums his fingers on his steering wheel. The guard returns, returning his booklet.  
“All right, then.” he says cheerfully as Carter replaces the booklet back in its place. “Ye are allowed in Vangosh. New regulations have been put to ensure our citizen’s safety, so I suggest ye look at them.” He stands back as the gates open.  
“Aren’t they going to ask for our documentations?” I ask.  
“They don’t need to.” Uncle replies. “They will make us do that when we get in the town. Did the two of you get your booklets?”  
“Yeah.” Sal and I reply in unison, taking out our documentation booklets to prove so. Uncle nods at us from the rearview mirror as the gates slide open and Carter drives into the town. The ground is covered in the same bumpy stone of the road and there are people of all kinds walking by. Vangosh is one of the oldest towns in the country, but you can see hints of the present in it. A big fountain with a metal dragon standing on its back legs and unfurling it is wings, ever getting ready to take off into the air, sputters water out of its mouth. People walk along the small sidewalks, dressed in mostly winter clothing. There are various ‘Wanted’ posters stuck to the walls featuring terrified faces with the rewards and conditions stamped beneath the name. There are a few cars in the streets, but Vangosh was not a place practical for any kind of vehicle unless it was a motorbike or bicycle. 

“You can drop us off here, Carter.” Uncle says.   
“Nah,” Carter says, “I’d like to say hello to your sister.”  
“She won’t forgive you.” Uncle says.  
“You’re not sure of that, my friend.” Carter says with a chuckle as a guard motions us to stop. We hand him our documents and we are let into the town’s inner walls. Carter follows Uncle’s house to our Aunt’s house, stopping when necessary and pointing out Wanted posters and saying perilous comments about them (“I think they blamed that guy for having a thick moustache,” he said, making Sal and me chuckle and Uncle glare at him). Soon my heart misses a beat when I spot Aunt Marylin’s house. Carter parks the truck next to the sidewalk and gets out, opening the back doors for me and Sal to get out. I have never been gladder to be able to stretch my legs out, that is what I can say.   
“Have you got your stuff?” Carter asks as Sammy pounces out.  
“I think so. Thanks, Carter.” I say. The older man grins.  
“You are quite welcome, Ria.” He says, closing the door. I walk onto the sidewalk and stare at the entrance. I catch a sight of movement on one of the windows and I see a small face with bouncing curls of tight, black hair. One of Marylin’s kids, I guess. As if in response, the door opens again and Marylin herself appears at the doorway, the same child standing behind her. 

“John!” she says when Uncle walks from around the truck, “What are you doing here?”  
“You wouldn’t mind housing three of your family members, would you?” Uncle asks, with a true smile. Marylin smiles.  
“Well, of course not. Like I always say, there’s more than enough room for everyone in my humble home!” she says. Then she spots Carter and her smile falls, her eyes narrowing. “Except for one person.”   
“Lovely to meet you too, princess,” Carter says, unmoved by her clear hostility. Aunt Marylin is a plump woman with a pretty face and emerald green eyes and curly, flaming red hair. She sighs.  
“Well, then. I guess you may come in too. But do not expect me to let you stay the night here,” she says coldly to Carter, walking down the steps. The little girl keeps behind her, eying us curiously and cautiously. Marylin’s gaze moves onto me and Sal and all the iciness evaporates in alarming speed. “Ah! My nephews! You have grown so big! Come give me a hug!”


	4. chapter 3

Valerian  
When I feel troubled or sad for whatever reason, I like to fly. Not surprising considering that I am a Swift and Swifts are made for the air, with two massive wings nearly bigger than my body and able to cover me if I need them to. Silvery scales hard as iron, able to stop any bullet that may be shot at me. Long, devil-ish looking horns and cold, blue eyes. I look down at the ground bellow me, the high mountain tops reaching out for me. I flap my wings, sailing up, into the clouds, trying to clear my mind. But I cannot. The smell of smoke, death, follows me around like a dark cloud. I twirl in the air like I was taught to, trying to run away. I fly higher, pushing past the clouds, trying to reach the top. Oxygen is harder to breathe, but I can manage, puffing little clouds out my nostrils as I fly higher and higher, reaching for the stars high above me. 

I burst out of the clouds and find myself flapping above a cloudy heaven. I hover in spot, looking around me at the stretching wonderland. The sun is sinking, and the moon is rising up to take His place, the stars blinking in and out along with Her. I flap in spot for a moment longer before tilting my wings and pelting downs, flying over the clouds. My claws cut through the white fluffy things and cutting out lines on the white surface as I pelt past, flying as fast as I can. Faster than a peregrine falcon. Faster than any kind of dragon. Flapping hard, my tail holding my valance as I turn and toss, coming in and out of the clouds like one of the dolphins I see swimming in the sea. I lift up, twirling in the air and rocketing up. I wonder if there has been a dragon in history who has ever been able to reach the moon. I imagine what I must look like: a silver shape, the remaining sunlight reflecting off my scales, winging his way up, up, up higher into the sky. My home. The only place in which I will ever truly feel safe. 

The sun disappears and the world is dipped into darkness. The moon stands out clear in the sky, the stars barely as bright as the moon Herself. I take a deep breath in, the cool, night air calming me. I stop flapping and I slow down in the sky. I don’t even flap to just hover there. I just stop. I stop altogether, closing my airs for a moment just as I am taken by gravity, pulled down. I plummet through the cloudy barrier, falling. I wonder if I should just leave my wings hanging. A way to get rid of the black cloud. But I sigh. Problems of this scale can’t be dealt with death, Val, I remember Father telling me when I was no more than a little dragonet.   
“True, Father.” I sigh, turning to face the ground, and open my wings slowly, slowing my fall. I hold them open, watching the ground coming closer beneath me as I glide down like an eagle. A black shape moves in the corner of my eye and soon it’s Shadow gliding next to me, her gold eyes glinting in the darkness. The unusual white patch of scales on her forehead stands out on her pitch-black scales, matching her ivory-white horns, two on the back of her head and two smaller ones just in front of her eyes. 

“You are lucky you can fly up so high,” she says, flapping her large, black wings and cocking her head at me.  
“You are lucky you got to be born as a Darkdream, Shadow.” I tell her, slowing down my glide.  
“Never mind that. I am different from them all.” She says. I snort.  
“That white spot is not very differencing from the others,” I tell her.  
“I meant in my behavior. The others are always so full of themselves. Oh, Val. Don’t make that face. You know I’m right.” She laughs.  
“You are not supposed to speak about our superiors in that way.” I hiss. She rolls her eyes and tilts her wings, sailing down like a hawk. I sigh, following after her. Soon we land on the concrete platform of the Base. Dragons, mostly Darkdreams, Ices, Stoneclaws and a few Swifts, mill around, doing whatever they have been told to do. Some of them take off on missions, either to spy or burn down more rebellious towns.   
That sets off another bomb of guilt in my stomach. I did that a few hours ago. 

Shadow leads the way into the Base, which has been built under a chain of mountains, having been carved around the massive, underwater river. The walls had been carved out enough so that dragons could fly from hanging walkways to walkways, long enough for ten dragons with their wings outstretched. Like I said, pretty big. Dragons walk along the walkways or perch on the rocks around the lake, some glancing up at us as we fly past silently. We land on a walkway just as Shadow’s name is called.  
“You have been assigned for an espionage mission.” One of the commandants says. Shadow shoots me an apologetic look before setting off after him. I fly down to one of the boulders and curl up there, left alone with my guilt.


	5. chapter 4

Ria  
Aunt Marylin’s house is like I remembered it: warm and big, with a lit fireplace in the living room. It is a place filled with oddities that Marylin likes to collect over the course of the years. Along with the children she houses, she also has various other creatures, like a pitch-black owl and a talking ferret named Lucius. And not to mention the other, many artifacts she keeps on the walls, in glass cases or mounted on shelves. The walls are lit by small candles, casting a soft, gentle glow. As I sit at the large table besides Sal, I catch the soft melody of a song. I listen intently and realize that it is ‘Haunted Heart’ by an olden singer by the name of Christina Aguilera. I then study the children at the table. I spot the little girl who had been with Marylin when we saw her first, playing with her dark curls. Shortly after meeting her, I learned that the child’s name is Chebet. Apart from her, there are another eight children, without including my other cousin, Austen. 

Some of the children steal glances at Sal and me with curiosity, and some stare openly. Chebet is the only to advert her eyes, focused on her hair. Austen does not look at us much, but once or twice he catches my eye and then looks away. I cannot blame him after what happened last year. After all, I did hit him squarely in the eye and gave him a bruise. It was not really my fault. He had pissed me out, after all.  
“Be careful,” Marylin says, setting down a steaming pot. “It’s steaming hot.”  
“What are we having for dinner?” one of the little kids—a boy, who’s, if I remember correctly, name is Matthew—asks.   
“Lentils.” Marylin says. These words immediately affect the children. Some are able to keep their expressions still, but the younger ones (which is most of them) groan, their shoulders dropping.  
“What?” Lily, a six-year-old, says.  
“We had Lentils yesterday!” Matthew whines. I keep my face straight, fighting a smile.   
“Lentils are healthy. Be grateful you get to eat!” Marylin snaps, taking the lid off the pot to let a cloud of steam out of the pot. 

“This is a nice house you have,” Carter comments a little wile after, spooning lentils into his mouth. I glance up at Marylin to see her eyes narrow.  
“Thank you.” She says icily. After that, Carter barely opens his mouth except to ask for the salt and pepper. Marylin looses all iciness in within a few minutes, though.  
“So, why did you come here?” she asks. All the other kids pretend not to be interested, but I can tell they all want to know.   
“Attack in our village. Dragons burned down the city square and the fire spread.” Uncle says quietly, “It was better if we left instead of risking the dragons coming back.”  
“On that we can agree, brother of mine.” Marylin comments, nodding her head. “It is good that this city has no disputes with those creatures. Imagine me having to leave this place I’ve called home for so long…” She looked around her, her gaze landing on the fire.  
“I know.” Uncle says with a sigh. “It was hard to leave our home, but it was for the better.”  
“But what if the dragons didn’t return?” One of the little kids pipes up. Uncle’s steel gaze moves onto her and she suddenly looks smaller than before.  
“Better safe than sorry, Michaela.” Is all he says. Despite looking painfully curious, the other children remain quiet. Well, all except Austen.  
“Michaela is right, though. The dragons might not go back.” He says calmly, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. I know that he’s saying this for the other kids. Trying to get out more information. Clever Austen.  
“But they might.” I say quietly. All gazes land on me.   
“The kid is right!” a squeaky voice pipes up from somewhere on the ceiling. We all crane our necks up to find Lucius the ferret sitting on the chandelier, blinking his beady black eyes at us. “I’ve met those creatures before. Absolutely bloodthirsty.”  
“Lucius!” Marylin says, scandalized. The little ferret moves to hang upside down the chandelier, hanging on with his tiny, back legs.  
“It is true, my lady!” it squeaks, stretching.  
“Don’t listen to him, children!” Marylin says hurriedly. The little ferret cackles.  
“You can’t deny that there are monsters out there,” it says, tuning his long, slim body to look at Marylin. “that would be lying.”   
“God damn it, ferret,” Marylin mutters, standing up on her chair and snatching the ferret from the chandelier. The little animal doesn’t even fight as she sits down again. It easily slips out of her hand, taking a small chunk of meat from her plate and nibbling on it.

Now it’s hard to keep the silly smile off my face. Whoever knew ferrets could be so entertaining. We quietly finish dinner and Marylin sends all the children off to bed.   
“I’ll assign you your rooms.” Marylin tells the newcomers. I watch as the other children quickly scamper up the stairs and listen to the floorboards in the ceiling creak as they run to their rooms. Marylin takes one of the candles from a hole in the wall and lights a brighter way up the stairs. Uncle, Sal, Carter and I follow her up.   
“Sal can sleep with Austen and Rick and Ria can move in with Lily, Pamela and Chebet.” Marylin says, gesturing to the doors. I shoulder my bag more. “As for Carter and you, brother, I guess you can sleep in the guest room.”  
“Sounds good to me.” Carter says cheerfully. 

Marylin shows me to my room. The other three girls, two younger and one about my age, are already settling into their beds.   
“Girls, don’t tire Ria out. She must be exhausted from her day and she needs rest like the rest of you.” Marylin says firmly. Chebet remains silent but nods, and the other two girls respond with a cheerful ‘yes’. I am shown to a spare bed. I leave my bad by the bedside and slip in the covers without bothering to change. Marylin blows out all the candles. I hear Lucius squeak a happy ‘good night’ from her shoulder as she closes the door. The other girls don’t speak, respecting Marylin’s wishes. I feel grateful for that, and my eyes don’t take long to close shut as sleep slowly takes me over.


	6. chapter 5

Valerian  
My unit is made of six different Swifts. In training, we can be seen flying in looks and firing at targets to practice targeting with fire. We hold short combats against each other under the watch of our head, Skyfire, a dragon able to shift his scales any kind of color and with a snapping temper. Despite not being a Swift himself, he has the qualities of one, with massive wings and the agility of one of us. He’s not as bad as Asriat, but he is strict and wants us to do everything with accurate perfection. 

“Keep your wings stretched to the limit!” the older dragon roars, watching as we practice flying in formation. “Spark, keep your head straight! And Valerian; do me a favor and focus!” I grit my teeth, keeping myself from snapping back something foolish. I need to be disciplined like my unit companions or I will do no good to the army. I do as I am told, focusing on keeping my wings stretched out to catch the wind and keep myself leveled between Spark and Flash.   
“Stormcloud! You have to keep still!” Skyfire shouts at the poor Swift. She tries to steady herself, but she is far smaller than the rest of us and she has trouble to steady her wings.   
“Fly in formation!” Skyfire yells. “Even if one of you falls, you must keep going! But that does not mean that you don’t have to protect one another!” He jumps into the air himself, catching up to us in no time. He barrels forward and we move as one, avoiding his attack. I can feel the heat as he calls up fire from inside him.  
“He’s going to fire us!” I warn the others. Just then, a jet of fire erupts from his mouth. We are able to avoid it in a flutter of wings—well, all of us except poor Stormcloud. It catches the edge of her wing and she cries out in pain, flapping frantically to keep herself in the air. I edge my wings like a flacon, catching her in my talons as she plummets down.   
“You shouldn’t have,” the little dragon says miserably, looking up at me. “Skyfire is going to be mad at us because of me.”  
“OH, YES I AM.” Skyfire flaps down to meet us. “Stormcloud, you have to avoid fire! Not fly to it like a brainless moth! And Valerian, you have to keep your spot in the formation! Only ducks do this!” the dragon hisses. 

Shame pools at my stomach as I flap my wings to keep airborne with the smaller dragon clutched in my claws.   
“She was falling, sir—” I say.  
“It doesn’t matter if one of you is falling to your death! You keep formation because that is how it is supposed to be!” Skyfire thunders. Spark swoops down to fly next to me.  
“He did nothing wrong, sir.” He says calmly. “Any of us would have done it. Am I right?” he calls up to the rest of the unit. We get a few growls of agreement from the others. Spark looks back at our head. “See?”  
“Imagine this is war. All of you would be dead if you had all assisted Stormcloud.” Skyfire growls. “Short break, all of you.” And with that, he’s already flying down to the ground. The rest of our unit fly down after him.  
“Can you fly?” I ask Stormcloud.  
“I think so.” She replies quietly, glancing up at me. “Thank you anyways.” I nod and release my grip on her. She opens her wings and begins to descend down to the ground. Spark nudges me and the follows Stormcloud. I hang around for a moment more before flying after them. 

Skyfire is speaking to a thin Darkdream dressed in armor. The black dragon looks distressed. I catch a part of their discussion.  
“—came back from the stronghold. Five of our spies have gone missing and now the elves are holding them hostage.” The Darkdream growls.   
“What is Asriat planning?” Skyfire asks.  
“He plans to storm the stronghold. He sent messengers to all the Swift units.”  
“What? My unit is not ready yet!” Skyfire yelps. The black dragon shakes his head.  
“It doesn’t matter. He wants them all.” He says. Skyfire turns his head to look at the rest. Stormcloud, who is far too small to be ready yet; Flash, who can’t be as fast as the rest of us. As his eyes land on mine, I know what he must be thinking about me. Valerian, the dragon who makes far too many mistakes and can’t do one simple thing fine.   
I can’t blame him.

Skyfire turns his head back to the black dragon, the tip of his tail bleaching red, which spreads onto the rest of his scales.  
“Fine. We will be there.” He says sadly. The messenger nods, turning and flying away.  
“Remember! Come to the river as the sky darkens with the entire unit!” he says before lifting into the air. Skyfire whirls to all of us.  
“The break is done!” he snaps, spreading his wings. “We need to train harder than ever. You will be going to battle soon, and I want you all to fight like Swifts. Start with some loops in formation!” We lift into the air, trailing after Skyfire and forming the Swift V formation. Skyfire is fast. He wants us to work properly. He wants us to avoid making mistakes. Because in a while, a mistake could kill us. So I gather all my strength, keeping my wings properly positioned and flying with the others as one, the wind taking us faster than ever.   
“Firing position!” Skyfire barks. I lower myself in the air at breakneck speed as the others do the same, keeping distance from each other. Even Stormcloud seems to be deep in concentration, her wings stretched out, not a single tremble in sight. I call up the fire stored in me, feel it traveling from my lungs and up my neck with scorching heat.  
“FIRE AT THE TARGETS!!!” Skyfire roars, leading us down to the ground. As we swoop down, we spit flames at the targets, making them burst in fire. As Skyfire leads us up once more, my bones are filled with excitement and glee, the feeling you get when you are up in the air and you actually enjoy it. By the time the sky darkens, Skyfire actually looks contended with all of us.  
“Better than nothing,” he says as we all gather around him. “You are all progressing. Hopefully, tonight you will all make it through the battle.” At that we exchange a few looks. I hadn’t thought that perhaps some of us could perish during the battle to recuperate our stolen spies. I ruffle my wings with unease. Skyfire then takes us all back to Headquarters. Even then, he makes us practice our positions. 

The other units of Swifts are already gathering at the river to listen to the orders we are about to be given. Skyfire lands on one of the rocks protruding from the water, looking up at the huge, black dragon standing on a big rock. I land close to Skyfire as the rest of our unit takes place close to Skyfire. Then Asriat roars for quiet, signaling that the meeting has begun.


	7. chapter 6

Ria  
It doesn’t feel like I have slept at all. I turn on my bed, burying my head underneath my blanket and try to go back to sleep. I have been dreaming of my burned village. I can’t get the memory out of my mind and now it is bothering me in my sleep. I sigh, throwing my bedsheets from on top of me and sitting up on my bed. The other two girls are sound asleep, and I envy them. They are lucky not to have suffered the pain I did.  
“You can’t sleep either?” a quiet voice asks, making me jump. I look over at Chebet’s bed and find her looking at me, lying on her side, her sharp eyes watching me.  
“You?” I ask. She shakes her head, her curls falling over her face.  
“I can’t. I am afraid of doing so.” The girl says in her quiet, soft voice.  
“Why?” Her eyes seem to flash.  
“If I tell you, you will laugh at me. Just like all the others.” She says. I slip out of bed and tip toe over to her, a couple of floorboards creaking under my feet.  
“May I?” I ask her, gesturing to the empty spot at the end of her bed. She nods, sitting up and hugging her thin chest. I gently sit.  
“Why do they laugh at you?” I ask.  
“Because it happened long ago, and I should have forgotten about it. But I didn’t and now it scares me.” She says softly “It scares me so much.”  
“I know how it feels to be scared. You don’t have to tell me why, but I think it might take some weight off your heart. If you want, I’ll tell you what scares me.” I offer. She considers this and then nods her head. I don’t understand why I am telling my fears to a young girl. I don’t know why I am suddenly opening up to a random person. I take a deep breath.  
“I am afraid of the dragons.” I say.  
“We all are.” Chebet says.  
“No. I mean, I am terrified of them. They played… the villain’s role in my story.” I say. “They burned down my home. They killed both my parents and destroyed any possible life I could have had with them.”  
“I…” Chebet looks at me with sad eyes. She looks so young, and yet, she seems to understand how deep my pain goes. “I am also afraid of them.”

She’s suddenly crying, tears slowly falling down her smooth cheeks. She fiercely wipes them away, ashamed of herself.  
“I am afraid of them because they also took away my home.” She whispers. “We lived near a lake and they burned it all down. Mother had to send me away to the city with my brothers. The dragons killed them too.”  
“Oh God.” I mutter, shocked to hear this. Chebet seems to have broken the dam holding her words in—and her tears.  
“I had to travel alone. I lived in the streets and I was hated because of my kin.” She sobs “I was always afraid to go to sleeps, that I wouldn’t be able to wake up later on. I was terrified.”  
“But then my aunt found you.” I say. She nods and remains quiet, wiping away her tears.  
“Everyone laughs at me when I tell them.” Chebet sniffs. “I wish people could understand me.” I stand up.  
“Me too. But you shouldn’t be bothered by what they think of you. Go to sleep and I will wake you up if you have a nightmare.” Her eyes widen.  
“You have to sleep too.” She mutters.  
“I’m not tired.” I say. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up, I promise.” Her mouth stretches into a grateful smile.  
“Thanks.” I walk back to my own bed and sit as Chebet burrows herself underneath her many blankets. Soon, her exhaustion has taken over and she is sound asleep. I lie down as well, staring at the ceiling. 

Time seems to pass slowly. My eyelids beg to shut but I force them open every time they do. I busy my brain by thinking about passages I memorized from my history book. But even that can’t keep my awake. My eyelids win the contest, closing and throwing me into sleep. I open them, but I am not looking at the bedroom ceiling. With a jolt of terror, I realize I am looking up at the bunker ceiling. I scream along with everyone else as the bunker shakes. The ceiling is cracking, dust falling down upon us. Sal is crying, and Uncle is praying. The ceiling cracks open and a chunk of stone falls, crushing the people sitting underneath it. I scream so loud it attracts a dragon's attention. I watch, paralized with horror, as its black head pokes through, its eyes landing on me. I scream even louder, terror coursing through me as I try to run from it. It's talons close around my thin body and tears are falling down my cheeks as the dragon brings me to face's lenght, studying me with humane inteligence. Its jaws open and I can see the orange glow at the back of its throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the scorching heat to touch me. Nothing. Not a sound. I slowly open my eyes and nearly faint with relief to find that I am not human BBQ and that I am back at Marylin's house inside my shared bedroom. I then realize that someone is stroking my hair in an attempt to calm me down. I look up and see my Aunt. "Are you fine now?" she says softly. The lights are on and I see Chebet and Lily standing behind Marylin, looking at me with worrysome faces. "Did I scream?" I ask. "Yes, but its fine now. Austen is going to bring you some tea to help you sleep." my aunt says. Just then, her son pushes the door open and slips inside, holding a tray with a steaming cup on top. He quietly hands it to me. "Thanks." I murmur, cupping my hands around it to absorb its warmth. "You can go back to bed now, Austen." Marylin says. He nods, part of his shoulder-length dark blonde hair falling over his eyes, gives me one last look, and then departs, closing the door behind him. "Drink it up and then you will find it easier to go to sleep." Marylin says. As she shooes the other girls away, I stare at the cup in my hands. The tea leaves at the bottom somehow remind me of... a dragon's eye. I teare my eyes away from it and drink it as quickly as I can without burning myself. After Marylin has left and the girls have long since succumbed to sleep, I still can't dare to shut my eyes and accept sleep.


	8. Chapter 7

Valerian  
Asriet looks down at all of us, his sharp eyes combing over us. As his eyes land on mine, I look down at my talons, an unvoluntary shiver running down my back. All my fellow Swifts wait in silence for Asriat to speak. The silence is so great it threatens to drown me. The only sound is the churning river ahead of me.  
"Five of our spies have been captured." Asriat's voice is low, but the black dragon is easily heard. Some of the other Swifts stand straighter, wings tilted back and necks pulled up, their eyes gleaming.  
"They were taken when they went to spy on an Elvish stronghold. We don't know how those pests did it, but they are holding them hostage." Asriat continues, his tail lashing, "And NOT one Elf holds power over our kind. Tonight, we wi storm their stronghold and take our dragons back. Darkdream troops are preparing to leave for back up and we have several Shifters coming to see the terrain."  
"Will we be attacking the stronghold ourselves?" A Swift asks.  
"Your units will be placed in different positions for a higher advantage point. I expect all of you to fight like dragons tonight." Asriat growls. A shifter suddenly materializes on a stone next to Asriat.  
"The troops are ready." she says.  
"Good. Go tell them that they should be taking off into the air within an hour." The black dragon replies. The Shifter nods and then dissapears, her scaes shifting colors to match her background. I can see the unatural line of her body as she glides away.

Asriat then spends the next hour explaining our positions of attack. In total, there are four units, each made of six Swifts and a head. Two of the units will occupy themseves in attacking the Elves. The third unit will concentrate on getting the prisoners out.  
"Skyfire, your unit will be in charge of two tasks: assisting the attackers and, once all prisoners are out, burn the stronghold to the ground." Asriat says. At the last sentence, my heart skips a beat.  
Burn it down? Why do we need to? Wasn't the plan just getting the hostages out of the stronghold? I hate Elves, sure, but I... I am skeptical about killing them mercilessly. I open my jaws to say something but Stormcloud throws me a knowing look, shaking her head a tiny bit. I snap my jaws shut and sigh.

"Alright, units!" Asriat roars. "Head for the landing pads!" There's a flurry of wings as dragons lift off their perches. Most of us are young. Some may not even be returning. I spread my wings and follow Skyfire, whose's scales are now a mix of blues and dark greens. I follow him to the outdoor landing pads, where about twenty or so Darkdreams are already preparing to take off. I land gracefully next to our head as the other Swifts of our unit land next to us, taking thei battle formations. I walk to the back to stand next to Stormcloud.  
"I know you don't want to kill those Elves without a real reason, but if you had said so you could have been blamed of treason," Stormcloud mutters to me.  
"Now that you say it, it does sound like the kind of thing a trator would say." I reply. The smaller dragon nods her head and then redirects her attention to Skyfire. I've known Stormcloud for nearly two years, and never before jas she looked this... well, strong.  
"Are you scared?" I ask her.  
"No. I am terrified." she replies. "But we are doing this for those prisoners. Skyfire and the other heads are preparing us for war and I knew that sooner or later we would have to fight." I nod just as Skyfire barks at us to ready ourselves for a long flight.

Skyfire jumps into the air, followed by Spark, Flash and Rain, and then Hail, Stormcloud and I taking off after them. Around us, Darkdreams blend into the night. I catch a sight of a white patch and see Shadow flying not far from us. She catches my eye and nods at me. I nod back, and then focus on the flight. Skyfire swoops up and dissapears into the clouds. The rest of us follow after him, keeping close as to not get lost. I breathe a plume of fire to light the way and I see another dragon do the same to signal were it is. I break out of the clouds and find myself flying in a black, star covered skyland. I hear Stormcloud gasp just as she breaks oit of the cover from the clouds, closely followed by Hail. "Okay, all of you." Skyfire says. "We need to be as silent as possible and keep our eyes on the cloids. One of the darkdreams below will breathe a plume of fire to signal that we have arrived. For now, we must fly on." "Than we should go now." Spark says. Shadow suddenly appears next to us. "Are you all ready?" she asks. "Yes. Remember to signal when we get there." Skyfire says. Shadow nods and ducks back down. We quietly fall into formation behind Skyfire, trying to flap less as to not make any noise. I exchange a look with Stormcloud and spot the terror she spoke of earlier in her eyes. I give her what I hope ias a reasuring nod before setting my eyes on Skyfire, who's scales are slowly changing to match the night sky around us, keeping the end of his tail the color of lime green to let us know where he is. A long time passes before we see Shadow's signal. Skyfire growls for us to swoop down into the clouds. I find myself flying over the stronghold. Dragons are already raiding it, Elves milling on the walls and trying to keeep the Swift units out while having to deal with the Darkdreams. Shadow nods to us before swooping down to join the fight. "We will set fire to that watch tower over there. It will distract those little pests." Skyfire says, pointing to one of the watch towers. His scales the turn absolutely black, the only exception smaller white dots to mimick stars. He angles his wings and rockets down, and we follow after him, preparing our fire. We soar above the heads of many Elves, who seem to realize about what we are about to do. Skyfire roars and then the seven of us are burning down the watch tower. Elves are highly disciplined fighters and excellent archers. We have to fly away as fast as we can to avoid the arrows that are shot in our direction. In front of me, one of them hits home on Flash's snout. The Swift roars in pain, but he keeps his spot on the formation, a small stream of blook flowing from the wound on his snout. The arrow must have been made of some kind of metal able to penetrate Swift's scales. Smart. Skyfire leads us to a second watch tower as a flock of arrows in shot at us. We manage to avoid most, but some either bounce of our scales or they become tiny splinters on our hides. I growl when one of them his my front left leg, but I don't dare break the formation. Once again, we set fire to the watchtower. I can't help but feel guilty for what we are doing. It is for those dragons, I remind myself, We need to save the hostages. Still, telling myself those words over and over again doesn't stop the guilt from weighting my heart down. "WE HAVE THE HOSTAGES!!!" A Darkdream roars. Dread fills my entire body. Time to do what I did to that village not long ago. Our unit spreads out as the other dragons make their escape. I call up the fire inside me . "I'm sorry," I mutter. Then a blast of fire leaves my jaws, hitting a troop of fleeing Elves. The fire spreads, joining the others' flames. Soon we are winging away as well, leaving behind us a burning stronghold and a hundred burning Elvish soldiers- perhaps more. I have just burned down another place and killed lives.


	9. chapter 8

Ria  
I look at my reflection in the mirror. I haven’t slept at all, my eyes bloodshot. I sigh, opening the tap and cupping my hands under the water. I splash my face with it, awakening myself, trying to get rid of the tiredness. I look at the window. The sun is slowly lifting from the mountains and into the sky. There are few vehicles and people out, but I spot a small flock of sparrows perching on the roof of one of the houses and a hawk flying high in the sky and reminding me very much of my nightmare. I wrench my eyes away from the window with a shaky breath and walk out of the small bathroom. Chebet and Lily are asleep in their beds, their chests rising peacefully as they breathe in and out. I quietly walk to my bed, grabbing my jacket from the spot its perched on and pull it on. I open the door and slip into the landing, quietly heading for the staircase.  
“Going somewhere?” a voice says. I turn my head and see Austen looking at me. He sits on an armchair with a newspaper in his hands. Lucius the ferret perches on his shoulder, probably asleep.  
“Downstairs. Got a problem with that?” I snap, turning around and glaring at him. Austen raises his hands.  
“I didn’t want to argue with you.” He says quietly. I still see the ghost of a bruise on his eye, where I punched him last year. When I don’t say anything else, he sighs.  
“Look, if you are still mad about what happened last—” I cut him off.  
“If I were still mad, then you would have another bruise.” I say in a grouchy voice, turning and walking down the stairs with my hands fisted at my sides. He doesn’t speak up. And I prefer it to be this way.

I enter the living room and collapse onto one of the armchairs, hugging my knees up to my chest and staring out one of the windows. The sun is slowly rising. The sky is slightly cloudy, with birds already going about their daily routines. The wood on the ceiling creaks and moments later Austen is entering the living room as well. I look at him with an annoyed look.  
“I tried to stop him,” Lucius says from on top of his shoulder, “but this idiot is incredibly stubborn.”  
“You couldn’t have listened to the ferret and leave me in peace, could you?” I growl, my eyes burning holes into Austen’s.  
“It’s clear you are still mad.” He says, ignoring my words.  
“Go stick your nose in someone else’s business.” I snap, turning my head from him and staring out the window instead.

“Not today.” My annoying cousin says, taking the armchair closest to mine and sitting in silence. Waiting for me to look at him. I sigh, turning my head.  
“What?” I ask.  
“It’s clear you are still mad about what happened last year.” He says, an eyebrow arching, “And it’s clear that if you continue being like this when I am in the same room like you, someone’s going to notice and next thing we will know my mother will be questioning both of us and find out what happened. And sooner or later, she’s going to find out.” I think about this. Imagine the face Aunt Marylin would put when she found that her son, despite it being badly seen in our family, had kissed me, his cousin (actually, half cousin. Did I meantion that he was the first that Marylin took in? He was officially her son basically because he had been taken straight from the orphanage and he had been a baby and my aunt had signed the papers). Don't get me wrong; that is why he has that goddamn bruise over his eyes. "Okay, I see your point." I say, pushing away the memories from that night. "I don't want Marylin to find out about... what you did." "Neither do I, so for the time being, you have to try not to hate me." says Austen, dodging the blow. "That means no more glaring as soon as I enter the room and no more hissing at me like an angry cat." "That's going to be a chalenge," I mutter. "It will be, but would you rather be shamed or simply keeping things cool for the time being?" I snort. "You were the idiot who kissed me," I say. One of his eyebrows arches. "And for a moment, you didn't seem to have anything against it. We are both equal. Deal with it." he shoots back, clearly embarrased. I raise my eybrows and cross my legs, leaning forward. "Fine." I say. "But if you piss me off all the time, deal's off and your mother learns about it, understood?" Austen rolls his eyes. "Yes, clearly understood," he says. I narrow my eyes but nod. My eyes shift onto Lucius. The little ferret tilts his head. "No worries. I shant't tell the witch about your little secret." he says.


End file.
